


Circling the Before

by deawrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Adult Content, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Dean, Bottom Sam, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sibling Incest, Top Dean, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-04 18:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4148523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deawrites/pseuds/deawrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam have been circling one another for years. When a motel room boasting a single queen bed for them to share brings Dean's emotions to the surface Sam's left facing the fallout when Dean once more withdraws.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Circling the Before: Losing It

**Author's Note:**

> There is no sex in the first chapter.
> 
> All canon from S1 through to end of S9 applies. Divergence occurs prior to S10. (edited and re-posted 8/29/16)
> 
> All comments, kudos, requests, and criticisms appreciated. I hope you enjoy your read! Part 2 to come soon- I'm working on it.
> 
> Extra special thanks to my spouse who helped me edit dialogue for Sam and Dean's argument at the bar. You are my awesome better half! I love you.

They circled one another endlessly placing blame, lobbing hypocrisy mortars, withholding emotions, refusing to surrender critical information, in ceaseless futile steps of denial.  It was a disease that infected one another with silence. Arguments erupted, punches were thrown, tears were shed, and wounds scared over, because both men were far too stubborn to take the chance of speaking the one truth that would shut down any further pain at the source. On and on they circled neither giving ground; each pulled like a magnet to the other; as they had been since the day Sammy Winchester was born.

 

Dean drank excessively and Sam brooded in stern silence.  Dean fucked insipid, trite lays, and Sam rarely indulged in sex at all.  Tension mounted between them and they sniped at one another, argued for a while, then begrudgingly forgave the indiscretions with curt, silent nods and suspicious glances.  Every mile eaten up by the 1967 Chevy Impala, was another circuit completed of the push and pull of their disease.  Too codependent to function within healthy boundaries, the two were incapable of living life not fused together at the soul.  They circled and ebbed; the circumference widening the gap, or reigning in the distance separating themselves in.  This was their dance, their music, their lives; and anyone foolish enough to place themselves between them ended up either completely decimated or deceased.  Sam and Dean called it misfortune but it wasn't ill luck; there was simply no room for anyone else in their lives.

 

From the beginning it had been Dean's life's mission to care for his infant brother Sam.  Adult responsibilities placed on a four-year old's shoulders, fabricated a symbiotic bond that even death could not sever. Sam's reason for existence was to act as Dean's touchstone and anchor in the chaos of life's many storms.  Both brother's had hero's, father figures, people they looked out for, or titled "family", yet in truth when it came down to the eleventh hour, all that mattered to Dean was Sam, and the only person that mattered to Sam was Dean.

 

The closest Dean had ever come to a life outside of Sam, was a brief affair with a woman named Lisa, and her son Ben. Yet that arrangement had lasted merely a year, with the majority of Dean's time spent dodging the relationship by hiding in the bottom of liquor bottles, or building an independent construction business. The closest Sam had ever come to the same type of life outside of Dean, was his college sweetheart Jessica, and a widow he had met in Texas named Amelia. Unlike Dean, Sam had been more successful in carving out a semblance of life, and been present in his own skin as he did so.  However, as happy as each had attempted being in those relationships, in the end they were short lived and hollow. So many things went unsaid to each of the women, trust kept at arms length, emotions barricaded and never spoken of.  It was only a matter of time before Sam and Dean turned away from the women, and returned to the familiar pattern of their circling.  They could tell themselves that it would have worked out if only this, or that, but both Dean and Sam knew ultimately they would return back to one another.

 

Nothing mattered to each brother but the other. Nothing gave them breath to carry on, past their ceaseless circling.  It was what they did; it was who they were; and nothing could alter their steps. Nothing except one of them surrendering just a little to the other; yet that was about as likely to happen as a week passing without a hunt to embark upon or to finish. Circling and staring one another down, the brother's continued their dance uninterrupted. It was after all the status quo.  Dean and Sam Winchester; never halting in their circling; never tasting that first kiss, that whispered plea, the surrender of one body to another.

 

Dean cleaned weapons and watched hotel porn channels in silence. Sam tapped away on his laptop researching monster lore, or buried his nose in old tomes, expression stern.  In the end they came together, leaving words and deeds behind in their motel room, as Sam exited first and Dean always after, locking the door behind them.  Sam armed with knowledge, Dean armed with a solid arsenal, each ready to destroy in order to save strangers that would never know them, nor never give thanks for their intervention.  Circle upon circle they completed never wavering, never ceasing, never letting go just enough to breathe because that wasn't what the brothers did. The family mantra rang " _Go down swingin'_ " so that is precisely what the brothers did.

 

Dean squinted his eyes closed and rubbed them with his left hand. He was tired, everything ached, and he just wanted to take a shower, climb into a bed and sleep for a week.  Really, was that too much to ask?  His head throbbed, and he had turned off the car radio an hour ago, garnering a surprised grunt from Sam. His younger sibling then promptly went back to reading the E-book he had downloaded onto his laptop earlier in the week. Dean had asked if there was any sex in the story hoping for a quick thrill; but was disappointed when Sam informed him it was not an erotic novel, but a non-fiction book about serial killers.  When they finally pulled into a roadside motel off the main highway, Dean was feeling road weary and grateful for a chance to stop.  He wanted to get clean, stretch out, and hope he plummeted into a dreamless sleep.

 

Sam volunteered to go into the office and get their room, and Dean gratefully accepted. After checking for threats looking around the parking lot; at the building and highway; finding none he slumped in the seat a little, laid his head back and closed his eyes.  While Dean swore he couldn't have fallen asleep, he didn't know how much time had passed before he heard a tap at the driver's window. Dean raised his head, looked at Sam through the glass, and slowly rolled the window a third of the way down.

 

"They have one room available but it's got a single queen.  Do you wanna sleep in the car, or head down the road?"

 

Dean cursed sharply and glared at the motel office.  The thought of driving more miles that night, or sleeping in the cramped confines of the Impala; exhausted him and he frowned, shaking his head raising his gaze to Sam's.  "I just can't, man.  Can you be cool with us in the same bed?"

 

Perplexed by the question, Sam's brow furrowed. " Why wouldn't I be fine with sharing a bed? We used to sleep together all the time-"

 

"Yeah but that was before." Dean interrupted, in explanation waving off Sam's decree.  "Now you're eight feet tall and got orangutan arms."

 

Sam huffed a laugh of dismissal and smirked at his brother. "I'll get the room." He informed rising to his full height. He muttered about the orangutan comment as he strode away, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. He could hear Dean chuckling behind him, and he could just picture his brother's impish smirk.

 

While it had been numerous years since they had shared a bed, Sam wasn't against the prospect; though if he were perfectly honest, he felt a tad bit timorous about the situation. What if he had a nightmare or talked in his sleep? What if he revealed some coveted piece of information he didn't want Dean to know about him?  His feelings for his brother ran deep and sometimes in a flash of hysterical fear Sam envisioned saying the words to Dean he kept buried.  No, he wouldn't say them tonight, and he would never say them.  And how could he? How could he tell Dean that he was in love with him? That he had always been in love with him? That he wanted nothing more than to take their relationship to a new level?  Sam shrugged in the confines of his jacket, and pulled the motel office door open repeating within his mind: get the room, get a shower and get to bed; period the end.

 

Dean let Sam shower first.  He clawed through his duffel and found the bottle of whiskey he had bought a state back, and took more than three swigs before closing the lid tight.  That was better; it would help soothe the aches and a hot shower following would put him out like a light. At least that's what Dean hoped for. He had trouble sleeping most nights. He and Sam carried a heavy weight upon their shoulders and were responsible for fighting the monsters that crawled out of the dark.  If Dean where honest, it wasn't his chosen vocation as a hunter that really kept him up most nights, but his past. Ruminating upon his childhood, his upbringing of Sam, and all the failures there in. The biggest, was that somewhere along the way he had come to think of Sam not as a sibling, but as merely a man.  That was just where he went wrong; a colossal mistake. He now could neither turn back the clock to change that newly formed image, nor prevent himself form being so deeply in love with Sam; that it ate at Dean and most nights. He wasn't successful in banishing the feelings to the dark recesses of his mind. And so he didn't sleep, but merely lay in the dark listening to his Sammy sleep instead.

 

When the bathroom door opened Dean looked up, words lodging in the back of his throat as he nearly swallowed his own tongue. Sam exited the bathroom wearing nothing but a body towel that was far too small for anyone but a five-year-old. The worn, terry cloth, barely contained Sam's cock and ass. His right thigh was visible up to the hip bone, where the pathetic towel was barely knotted. He smiled at Dean, and his features abruptly faded into a concerned expression.

 

"What's the matter?"

 

"Nuh, nothin'." Dean assured, with a quick clearing of his throat. He looked away at anything in the room but his brother, finally settling on the bottle of whiskey. "I was just gonna ask if you wanted any." He pointed to the bottle and looked at Sam once more, this time forcing himself to hold eye contact.

 

Sam shook his head. "I'm good. I'm just gonna change and go to sleep."

 

"Me too." Dean informed moving quickly, digging through his duffel to retrieve what he would need, before making his escape to the bathroom.  "After I shower of coarse."  It sounded stupid to even his own ears, and he cringed inwardly as Sam smirked and gave Dean a drawn out okay.  Dean closed and locked the door, before suddenly realizing how foolish that was. Dean never locked the bathroom door on Sam; not since they were battling puberty had the barrier been necessary.  Quickly Dean rethought the action and unlocked the door, pressing his forehead against it.  He knew, just _knew_ Sam was on the opposite side of the door, wondering what in the hell his brother was doing.

 

_Seriously, fucking, losing it... he's, just, so.... **fuck**!_

 

The shower started out cold, but Dean increased the temperature once the irksome erection he had was subdued.  Hot water caressed his muscles relaxing them further. Eyes closed, he allowed the spray to cascade down either side of his nose, cheeks and downward to his toes.  The tension of road travel, stress of a bad diet, and ceaseless fight and flight instincts of the hunt, eased away second after second. Dean reached for the bar of soap Sam had left out for him from his shaving kit, and the clean scent of sandalwood tickled his nostrils. On Sam the fragrance was heightened by a hint of sunshine and bites of the earth after a rain.  The final fragrance; and by far Dean's favorite; was an underlining tang, something unnamable scent that was unique to Sam.  Dean could live and die by that smell, as it had been ingrained in his olfactory senses the very first time his mother had allowed him close to his new born baby Sammy.

 

Dean groaned under the streams of water, before opening his eyes and turning his back to the shower head. He lathered up the soap in his hands, and began to wash; fighting not to imagine if Sam had mirrored his movements moments before. How long had he run his hands over his torso? How long had he soaped up his cock and balls? Did he press a finger to his hole just to feel the drop of his stomach at the spark of sensation? And if Dean pressed his nose up against the jaw hinge and softest part of Sam's throat, how long would his brother allow him to remain there before he questioned Dean's sanity? Dean licked his lips and closed his eyes once more.

 

_God Sam... The things I would do to you..._

 

Dean rinsed and shut off the water. He grabbed the other body towel off of the rack and quickly dried himself, scrubbing away his mental images of Sam's naked body, as if they were droplets of water coating his skin.  By the time he had finished his nightly routine and exited the bathroom, Sam was dressed in the boxer briefs and T-shirt he slept in. Sam sat upon the mattress setting the bedside alarm clock for the same time they always rose when traveling.  He looked up at Dean and smiled gently.

 

"Feel any better?"

 

"Yeah." Dean tossed the clothes he had been wearing onto the kitchenette table where his duffel sat. He knocked over the whiskey bottle but didn't care. Next, he chucked his boots toward the closest table chair and yawned.  "Sure you want that side?"

 

Sam held out his hands, palms up turned in silent indication.

 

"Yeah, fine. I'm by the door. No problem." Dean snatched the long knife off of the table on his way by it, and strode over to the opposite side of the bed from Sam. He yanked down the bed covers and jammed the knife beneath his pillow. The comforter had already been removed by Sam, and was folded back to the end of the bed.  "Just like the old days right Sammy?"  He groused, climbing beneath the covers. His put his back to his brother and he closed his eyes. If he didn't look at Sam, he could stave off the sexual hunger burning in is belly for his younger sibling.  Dean's head felt like it was spinning, but fuck all if it didn't feel great to finally lay down.

 

"The nostalgia is making me misty eyed." Sam teased, shutting off the bedside light and laying down on his back. There were a few seconds of jostling between them as covers were pulled and tugged until both brothers found the happy medium and stilled.  Sam turned his head upon his pillow and looked at Dean, noting the sag of his shoulders and the soft sigh he admitted.  "I was thinking that maybe tonight won't be so bad. Us sharing a bed like we used too."

 

Dean grunted noncommittally and sniffed, shifting slightly.  "You were all elbows and knees. You used to sleep at an angle and push me towards the edge of the bed. You do that tonight and I'm gonna punch you." There was no malice in his threat and Sam knew it.

 

Sam smiled gently and reached out with a hand to touch Dean's back between the shoulder blades.  "Well you slept on the edge of your pillow, with your head resting a third of the way on mine.  Do you remember _that_ part?" Dean huffed, and Sam's palm began to gently stroke careless circles over the cotton of Dean's T-shirt.  "You'd exhale in my face, which was fine if you brushed your teeth before bed but hell if you didn't.  Sometimes, you'd lay on my arm and pin it to the mattress for hours. It be numb but I never could push you hard enough to move you off of me."

 

The sensation of Sam's caressing was lulling Dean further towards sleep, but the things he said burned like a challenge straight to his pride. "Oh, you want to play the, 'who was worse to sleep with game'?" Dean paused, turning his head to glance back Sam, yet he didn't roll over enough to actually make eye contact.  "Fine, we'll play. Your cold feet on me all damn year.  Your finger jabbed in my eye; my _eye_ ; more times than I can count."

 

Sam chuckled. "You were a drooler and you kicked me at least five times a night."

 

"Oh boo freakin' hoo." Dean sniped trying not to laugh.  "How about the time you insisted on sleeping with your head at the foot of the bed, huh? You broke my nose when you kicked me."

 

"It was an accident. Not like your constant rocking. I thought we were sleeping on a water bed in an earthquake every night."

 

Dean reached back with a hand to punch at his brother.  Sam laughed, catching the fist using the same hand that had once been stroking Dean's back making Dean growl in protest.  "Stop it Sammy; before I roll over and smother you with my pillow."

 

Sam twisted Dean's arm a little, moving to press it behind his back.  "Well at least your pillow will get some use tonight, since you'll be sleeping on mine."  Dean laughed, then tried to roll over on the bed, but his arm was wrenched up behind his back and abruptly he felt Sam roll towards him. Sam pressed his chest to Dean's shoulder blades, while Dean's arm separated their stomachs from touching; and their legs were neatly spooned together.

 

Dean's laughter silenced, and he felt his heartbeat quicken. He froze, and hoped Sam wasn't aware of the change in his breathing.  For his part, Sam was still wearing a smile and he leaned towards Dean's ear to impart, "Just try to stay on your side of the bed tonight, behave and nothing will get broken, smothered or otherwise for either of us. Agreed?"

 

Dean swallowed hoping his voice didn't sound as strained as it felt in his throat.  "Yeah. Sure."

 

Sam kissed the crown of his head and released his arm, rolling back to his side of the mattress.  "Night Dean."

 

"Night, Sammy." Dean said softly, eyes staring straight ahead of him.  So much for sleeping; it was going to be another long night of listening to Sam dream behind him.  Yet after several moments of silence, there was no alteration in Sam's breathing nor movement from the opposite side of the bed.  Dean pursed his lips and inhaled silently, his chest puffing out and his shoulders raising.  "You still awake?"

 

The question hung in the constricting air between them.  Sam felt the barrier, but remained silent. He didn't know why he didn't answer right away, certainly not to punish Dean. He rolled his gaze to his older brother and allowed still more seconds to pass before he spoke.  "Do you want me to be?"

 

Two words less and the question would have had Dean panicking like trapped prey.  His tongue darted out and moistened his lips.  "It's not about that as much as; I dunno; if you _are_."

 

Sam considered this, and raised an arm to rest under his head upon the pillow.  "Obviously I'm awake."

 

Dean nodded, nearly releasing a sigh as he did so.  "I guess I should have just kept driving huh?"

 

Sam frowned, and Dean just knew exactly what Sam's expression must be.  "Why?  So we could have separate beds? It's not big deal Dean; I mean, sure I'm used to sleeping alone now but, whatever man.  You're my brother and it's not weird or anything. We're family."

 

Fucking hell but why did that have to be true? If Sam were anyone else, Dean wouldn't feel so fragile with Sam in his bed. It would be acceptable, two consenting adults in the privacy of their own room and all of that.  But right now? Two brothers with the eldest so sexually charged he could pin Sam down on the mattress and take what he wanted at any moment? Hinky at best and immoral at worst; well, that was what outsiders would judge at any rate.  Most days Dean was inclined to agree with them; but tonight? Tonight was different.  Dean shifted and rolled over to face Sam. Their gazes met in the gray black of the room, and Dean's eyes caressed Sam's features before he dared trust his voice to sound once more.

 

"Do you... ever miss it?  How we were then?"

 

Sam broke eye contact for a split second, his gaze rolling up as he considered Dean's words. "You mean being children, or it being mostly us and sometimes us with dad?"

 

Dean started to shake his head but stopped the motion, gaze dropping downward.  "Like-" He faltered and raised his face towards Sam's.  "Do you ever miss how we used to be with each other? That closeness we used to share?"

 

The question surprised Sam, and Dean could easily read that fact in his manner and expression.  His heart beat raced as he awaited Sam's answer. Finally, his brother spoke, voice low, tone soft as angels’ wings brushing past Dean's cheek.

 

"You mean when we didn't care what anyone thought about us? Yeah, I absolutely do."

 

Dean smiled, the curving of his lips slight but transmitted his affection and pride for his younger brother.  It amazed him how Sam could always take what Dean was trying to say, and bring it full circle to clarity that left no room for further interpretation. Perfectly stated, Dean reached out with his right hand and touched the underside of Sam's arm, the sensation on the sensitive flesh making Sam's lips part in reaction. Slowly Dean withdrew his hand.

 

"Me too."  Dean took a visible breath, his chest rising, pushing toward Sam while the rest of his body remained still.  The circle was collapsing and Dean could hear the pulse of his blood in his own ears.  He parted his lips to speak but no words came and he closed them again. He watched concern flood Sam's gaze and Sam rolled on to his side, the arm on the pillow pushing his head up so now he was looking down upon Dean.

 

"It's okay, Dean." He assured softly. "Kids grow up; begin to think like adults and forget.  That's how people are."

 

"The 'natural order' and all that, right Sam?" Dean demanded, with a surge of bitterness underlining his tone.  "What if that's not how it should be? What if it's just how everyone else wants it?"

 

Sam arched his eyebrows tentatively. "So it's a grand conspiracy? The transition from child to adulthood?"

 

Dean exhaled in a growl, and tore himself back from his brother. He rolled out of bed and stood, rubbing his right palm down his face before pressing his argument.  Where were Sam's flawless translations now? "No Sam, not growing up, okay? I meant _us_.  Why did _we_ have to buy into that crap huh? When did we decide that it was easier to live by their rules than our own? When did we give up on what we knew was right for us? Huh? Can you tell me that? The instant you realized? Because I remember mine."

 

Sam pushed himself up further, his features falling in upset as he searched Dean's flash of expression.  He could hear the bitter tang of anger honing itself in Dean's voice and radiating outward through the rest of his brother's body.  "Dean, I never-"

 

"We both did Sam!" Dean shouted, and abruptly remembering they were in a motel with thin walls he lowered the volume of his voice, yet the anger remained steadfast.  "You left for Stanford and you didn't come back. No glance in the rearview, no nothing. You just kept on going!" Dean paused for a split second and took a step forward, his form looming over Sam's casting a darker shadow across the mattress and his brother's prone form.  "I _needed_ you and you left.  Fucking left me, Sam. I knew you wanted a 'normal life', but I always thought that you would stay to-" He grunted, and his hands went to his head, his fingers closing around short strands tugging at the clumps of hair.  "I thought that you would find that life," his hands fell to his sides, his voice nearly evaporating into nothing on the last word. "with me..."

 

Shocked to the core, and feeling attacked, Sam rose up into a seated position. Dean backed away from him and Sam climbed out of bed to stand. Once more Dean retreated out of Sam's reach, both hands raised in warning. Sam stood his ground, and stared at his brother as his whirling mind desperately sifted though the hurricane of words and emotions circling them, in order to cobble together coherent sentences.  "Normal life? Dean, I knew I could never have that if I stayed with you and dad. I would always be hun-"

 

"Fuck dad!" Dean snapped, abruptly rushing forward and twisting his fists in the V-neck tee shirt his brother wore.  "You left _me_! _Me_ , Sam! And you didn't come back.  You didn't do anything but disappear for four years and if I hadn't come to get you that night-" Dean's voice cracked, the anger breaking to sorrow as his volume fell away once more to silence.  Dean dropped his gaze to his fists and slowly opened them pressing the cotton flat against Sam's chest.  "you would have never come back..."  Dean's gaze lifted to Sam's eyes, his palms moving nearly imperceptibly upon Sam's chest.  "It killed me, Sammy."

 

Sam felt the warmth of Dean's palms past the cotton of his shirt, the hurt in his brother's eyes causing his own chest to ache in empathy.  Dean's expression was raw, too open and bleeding even in the dark room, and Sam reached up with his hands to place them on Dean's biceps. He wanted to steady him, invoke eye contact. His own face was charged with anguish, his tone gentle and a sharp in contrast to the cruel truths Dean spoke of.

 

"Dean, I didn't leave to hurt you-"

 

"But you did." Dean hissed, as his hands groped at Sam's chest for purchase.  "Four years, Sammy. I didn't know what to do anymore. I lost everything because I didn't have you to take care of.  You didn't need me anymore. You didn't call much, not even one visit. You wanted to be left alone and all I had was dad.  I hated that every second, because I wasn't there to protect you. Watch over you while you played house with Jess, and studied and made friends; did all the things you wanted to do since you were a kid. And I let you because... I didn't know what else to do. I didn't know how to give you everything you wanted without standing aside. Not until you left with me that night did my life make sense again. Before that there was only hunting and dad. Two sorry ass substitutes for a lifetime of raising and looking out for my kid brother."  Dean swallowed, his mouth dry, his chest heaving for breath, and his fists curled in fabric once more.

 

Desperately Dean searched Sam's gaze for understanding rather than sympathy; for acceptance rather than argument.  His left hand remained fisted in the cotton tee, and his right flattened upon Sam's chest, stroking circles over the heart area.  "I _can't_ ," Dean inhaled sharply feeling the edges of his vision fuzz over with anxiety.  "I can't do this.... or even _live_ without you at my side." Dean's tongue darted out to catch on his bottom lip, his eyes frantically searching Sam's for connection.  "Understand, Sammy? Nothing matters if you're not with me."

 

"Okay. Okay Dean. I get it. I do." Sam comforted gently. He drew his brother into his arms, surprised by just how compliant his sibling was to his embrace. Dean didn't tense but in fact clung to Sam's body as if it were a touchstone, and based on Dean's previous comments, Sam supposed that it was.  He tightened his arms around Dean, and pressed a hand to the back of his head. "It's okay." he soothed, as he felt hot breath huff against the junction of his neck and shoulder, the wrought iron muscles of his sibling start to unknot one by one in his hold.

 

Dean's behavior was a little frightening and completely blindsiding. He had never been prone to emotional outbursts that weren't vented anger, so the desperation in his manner resonated deep within Sam.  All this time Dean had been holding on to this confession; but why speak of it now? What had changed to insight the admission? Was it something as simple as nostalgia of sharing a bed for the first time since they were teenagers? Could it be that obvious or was it far more complex? Sam ran his hand down the back of Dean's head and rubbed his brother's back gently.

 

"I promise Dean. I won't leave again. Okay? I'm with you and that's how it's going to be from now on. All right?" He felt Dean's arms tighten around him. and could have sworn he heard a breathy exhale that sounded more like a sob of relief, than a huff against his throat. "I promise." To punctuate the pledge, Sam placed a kiss upon Dean's forehead.

 

Dean went fully slack against his brother, and quickly blinked away the excess of emotion in his gaze. He inhaled and steadied himself, letting the moment pass and he extracted himself from Sam's embrace. Dean took a step backwards and nodded, body language returning to the gruff normalcy Sam was accustomed to seeing.  "Okay then." Dean motioned to the bed. "We should some sleep. Got a bit of road to cover tomorrow, and few hours'll do us both some good."

 

The vacillating of desperate to dismissive took Sam a few more seconds to process, and respond to then it had for Dean.  Of course; the king of shoving down his emotions was back in full force.  Sam scratched the back of his head, and then held out his hands in supplication.  "Sure." was all he said as he walked around the opposite side of the bed to lay down once more.  He watched Dean check the locks on the door, the salt lines before it and along the window, before he returned to the mattress and joined Sam.  He couldn't keep his attention away from Dean, absorbing every movement the older man made.  He was looking for the tell tale cracks that Dean assumed didn't show, but that Sam was accustomed to seeing every now and again.  Dean wasn't all right, no matter what he said otherwise.  As predicted Dean put his back to Sam and the tug of covers began once more, yet this time Sam, didn't pull back and merely watched Dean.

 

Several moments ticked by and Sam, laying upon his side reached out with his left hand and pressed his palm between Dean's shoulder blades. Initially his brother tensed bowing away from him, but after several seconds of rubbing gentle circles with his palm, Dean rested beneath his touch.  "I missed you sometimes. The ache so sharp it was like breaking an arm, or leg.  But I was determined to leave the life; to put dad and all of the bullshit we dealt with growing up behind me.  I wanted to stay in one place longer than a month. I wanted to have friends. I wanted to have a girlfriend and be like everyone else longer than a day.  I didn't think that was too much to ask, given everything we'd done for the World, and I needed it. I'm sorry Dean, but I did and I'm glad I left to pursue normalcy."

 

Sam paused, and rubbed his hand to Dean's shoulder, and began to massage the muscles at his neck, his thumb running under Dean's hair line, stroking the nape with tender assurance.  "But you and I can never be normal like everyone else. We can try, and for a while we can fake it, but eventually it all comes back to the hunt and to each other.  I know that now; and even though sometimes I want to rail against it, I know I can't have that life.  I know it in my bones that I belong with you hunting and enduring arguments with each other until we come through the other side, because that's who we are. It's what we do and you're right..." Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder.  "Nothing means anything unless we're together."

 

Sam understood; queue the angels and the choir, his younger brother got it and Dean didn't have to say it anything more on the matter.  He grunted softly in acceptance, and closed his eyes feeling the gentle caressing of Sam's hand. He enjoyed it way too much whenever Sam touched him; somewhere along the line platonic touching had transformed into sexual foreplay.  Dean moistened his bottom lip and his breath caught a little in his chest, and was exhaled raggedly too many seconds later.  Somewhere amongst Dean providing a father figure and acting as Sam's personal care taker, his own perception of Sam had altered from brother to lover. He knew that he craved romantic touch and emotion from Sam. He had been jealous as hell when he had discovered Sam was living with some girl off campus, and whenever an attraction to a female was raised during their travels, he wanted to gleefully strangle a bitch for daring to snag Sam.  If anyone bothered to ask him why he played hard at flirting with woman and bang them for one night every so often in port, the answer was not complex:  Dean fucked them because he wanted to defuse himself from grabbing Sam and surrendering to his base instincts to take his brother instead. He fucked them to protect his baby boy from the damages of incest.  While his actions could hardly be called selfless, at the very least he could last several more hours in the car with Sam and not buckle to desire due to them.

 

It was exhausting to maintain, and Dean wasn't certain how much longer he could keep up the charade.  All he had ever wanted was to love Sam and have Sam love him in return. The only body he had ever wanted to touch, or have touch his own, was Sam's.  Out of desperation and denial, he had sought out every lay he had ever had.  While Sam craved normalcy for himself, Dean had craved decency.  He wanted to wake up and not feel like the biggest, perverted asshole on the planet. He wanted to stop being scared that when people looked at him they could read his mind and see what he really wanted from Sam, and how everything else were pale substitutes.  He was a fraud and every day it became harder and harder to take a step forward and keep pretending.  On a hunt, there was little time to think of anything but the task at hand and Dean could surrender fully to it. Afterward, the battle continued on and wore him down more every year.  He was going to die young but not from the fact he was a hunter, but from the denied emotions he had locked away all his life. His heart would just give out and even then he doubted he would have any peace.  It didn't matter that he had glimpses of the after life already, as he was convinced taking his secret to the grave didn't guarantee him any sort of forgiveness.

 

If only he could communicate to Sam how tired, he was. If only he could have his heart's desire and see his own love reflected back in Sam's eyes. Instead, he kept his back to his brother and continued circling. After all, it was what he Winchester brothers were best at.

~~~~~

 

The next day Sam kept subtle vigil on his brother.  He kept conversations simple, light, and just allowed Dean to have his head and set the pace for their interactions.  He smiled at Dean's corny jokes, remained cautious of inciting arguments, or debating any suggestion his older sibling came up with.  The prior night’s confession rotated heavily within Sam's memory, and there was a part of him that wanted Dean to open up once more. However, he hoped the admissions wouldn't sound so desperate and pleading, but rather like an actual adult conversation between them.  In a deeper, darker corner of him however, the outburst had frightened him and he prayed never to see that vulnerability in Dean's eyes again.

 

Logic and reason won out over emotion and he steadfastly did not broach the subject of Dean's verbal explosion nor tease him about it.  He was in the middle of checking phone messages when they arrived at their next motor inn destination. Dean climbed out of the Impala to obtain them a room, while Sam watched him through the windows from the car.  Dean was in the door first, and when he flicked on the light it took Sam half a second to realize that there was a single bed in the room.  His jaw tensed, right cheek twitching thrice, before he set his computer satchel down on the room dining table and dropped his backpack on one of its chairs.  He caught Dean's gaze and ignored the challenge, not rising to comment, but merely brought out his laptop and plugged it in. The battery needed charging and he still had some research he needed to slog through before morning.

 

"So there were a couple of diners I saw on the way in. Want that or something from the Italian place across the street?"

 

"Uh, either of the diners is fine. I just don't want to load up on carbs tonight. It'll mess up my sleep, if that's okay?"

 

Dean shrugged noncommittally, and tossed his duffle on the dresser along side of the television.  "Any special requests or is it rabbit food only?"

 

Sam nodded and sat down at the table.  "You know what I'll eat, so I trust you."  Dean grunted and Sam met his gaze.  "We you looking for company or-"

 

"No, no it's fine." Dean dismissed, checking that his wallet was secure in his back jeans pocket.  "Just making sure before I ordered is all." He strode towards the door.  "I'll be back in a few."

 

Sam issued a distracted farewell, and once the sound of the Impala was distant Sam exhaled a breath he didn't realize he had been holding.  His gaze shifted to the bed and narrowed slightly.  One bed, not two; and Dean hadn't mentioned that the motel was full; something which Sam highly doubted could be true. Once sure, but two times in a row was not mere coincidence.  Dean wanted to relive the nostalgia of the previous night, yet to what degree made Sam a little nervous.  He spent the next few minutes unpacking his night clothes and toiletry kit from his back pack, before tossing it into the closet.  He was certain Dean was going to bring in some of the guns from the Impala's trunk after dinner, so that they could clean them.  Weapon maintenance was not just a requirement of gun ownership but something to casually pass the time as well. Sam wandered into the bathroom, electing to take a shower and wash away the grime of the road from his muscles.

 

Sam closed his eyes and placed his head underneath the streams of water pouring from the showerhead.  Dean's words from the previous night swarmed in his head.  And just why couldn't they go back to a time when they didn't care about anything but one another? Would it be so hard to take down their shielded emotions and just _talk_ to one another again?  What were they hiding for anyway? Wasn't it clear that they craved the intimacy they shared? Intimacy that was later extracted by cowardice once they reached adulthood?  Why couldn't they just stop for one second and reach out to one another and just _really_ talk?  Dean had given of himself last night so it was time that Sam follow his example. Perhaps the more often they indulged, the easier it would become to recapture that essence of devotion they previously shared.  It wasn't the two of them that were _'wrong'_ , no, not in this; but instead the intruding, outside world.

 

Dean kicked the room door closed behind him, and set the bag of food and drink carrier down upon the table.  He returned to the door and locked it before looking at the cracked bathroom door. He could see steam wafting out of it and he swallowed, crossing the distance of the room.  He took a deep breath and rubbed his palms together, more imagining perspiration upon them then there actually was.  "Hey Sammy!" He called to his brother. He abruptly discovered the shower curtain was clear not opaque, and Dean's eyes drank in the nude sight of his younger sibling.  His breath was knocked out of him as his lips parted, but no further sound emitted from them. How could he speak when the perfect physical specimen of the only person he could ever love was standing right in front of him?

 

Hearing his name Sam's head jerked up, raised out of the spray, and he opened his eyes.  "Hey. That was quick."

 

Dean shrugged, neither moving further into the bathroom door jam nor retreating from it.  "Rabbit food's got no cook time." He paused for a split second managing to maintain eye contact.  "Just hurry up, I'm starving."

 

"Then eat." Sam smiled. "I'll be in here another ten. You shouldn't wait."

 

"I don't mind." Dean assured turning to leave. There was nothing more to say that wouldn't be a stalling tactic.  He returned to the table and sat down to divvy up the food and drinks.  In his mind's eye he was still picturing Sam's naked body and his hands ached to touch that flesh: Physically _ached_ for Christ's sake.  The battle of carrying his lust and fathomless love for Sam unspoken was going to kill him someday.  If he didn't suffer a brain aneurism, he was bound to have a heart attack.  It was criminal just how gorgeous his brother was. Then again even when he had been a scrawny, gangly, wire of a kid there had been beauty to him. Worse now that he had blossomed fully into a flawless Adonis.

 

If asked, Sam would refute that he had not hurried in the shower following Dean's exit, but he had.  A quick scrub down and rinse later, he was drying himself in under five minutes. By the seven-minute mark he was dressed in pajama bottoms and t-shirt.  He turned off the bathroom light and fan as he exited the door and joined Dean at the table.  "I'm so glad you're back. I didn't realize how hungry I was until I saw you."

 

Dean could say the same thing about Sam's nude body but he said, “Well, how you sustain yourself on mostly vegetables is beyond me."  He shuddered at the thought and picked up the phili steak sandwich he had ordered.  "If you go vegan I swear to god I'll gank you."

 

Sam chuckled, watching Dean take a big bite of his food.  The man didn't eat, he _devoured_ like a starvation crazed animal.  He chewed the bite down to puree, cheeks bulging from the enormous bite, and Sam's laughter picked up volume.  "Don't worry. I still like chicken, fish and the occasional steak."

 

"Good." Dean grunted taking a drink out of the straw in his beverage.

 

Sam cocked his head a little and searched Dean's expression. He felt just a little bit that Dean was avoiding his gaze.  "I want to talk about the other night.  You said something that-"

 

"No." Dean interrupted setting the drink down.

 

Sam huffed. "But you don't even know what I was going t-"

 

"No." Dean restated, his frame tensing.  He looked up at Sam and shook his head.  "We're not going to have this conversation."

 

Instantly Sam's features pinched in anger.  "Yes Dean; we _are_. We're going to talk about it because it's important."

 

"Sam," Dean warned, eyes narrowing in defiance.  "No. So just drop it okay?"

 

"Dean you can't just-"

 

"I said no and I mean it, Sam!" Dean shouted with explosive authority. "I want to eat my dinner and I not have to regurgitate a conversation we had last night! It's been a long day-"

 

" _You_ don't get to decide everything Dean!" Sam spat, refusing to back down. His feet were planted and he was not going to be swayed into silence; not this time.  "I might still be your kid brother, but I'm not a child so don't treat me like one!  If you would stop being an ass long enough to just listen to what I have to say, you might find that talking isn't a bad thing." Sam could see that Dean was ramped up and ready to escape. Dean didn't want to talk, he wanted to keep everything buried deep down where no one could see it, touch it, or have to examine it, most of all himself.  "I'm sorry, Dean. I know all you want to do is run and hide right now, but there's no reason too."

 

"Sam, I'm only gonna say this once more-"

 

"No! You're not, Dean. You're going to sit there and listen to what I have to say, because I owe you this; because you need to hear what I have to say, and because I'm tired of fighting every little emotion I have with you!"  Sam reached out across the small circular table and grabbed Dean's right wrist. His long fingers encircled the appendage and he held tight.  Barring his teeth, he hissed, "Now sit there and listen!"

 

Dean thought about grabbing Sam's wrist, rising to his feet and spin to place his back to Sam. Clutching Sam's arm he would be able to haul Sam to his feet, and using the twisting momentum throw his younger sibling to the ground.  He thought about it, but the aftermath would leave Sam angry and the physical fight would continue.  Dean was too exhausted to engage in a full on beat down with his brother right then.  A second option was to just stand up and leave the room; walk out without so much as a word and drive to the nearest bar to drown his anger. By the time he would get back to the hotel though, Sam would still be awake and laying in wait for him to verbally pounce the instant Dean hit the door. The third option was even less appetizing than it's two predecessors, where Dean could merely remain seated and let Sam have his conversation.  Dean's jaw tensed and he made his decision.

 

Sam counted off about fifteen seconds before realizing that Dean was not going to balk but obey him.  Sam withdrew his grip from Dean's wrist, and sat back in his chair a little.  His expression was grateful for the acquiescence and he cleared his throat tentatively before speaking.  "I've been thinking about what you said last night and it makes allot of sense to me.  You asked me why we started caring what other people thought about us, and I realized something. I don't have a sound answer for that. I mean, I _really_ don't, Dean.  All I know is that the more I think about it the more I want for us to just not give a damn anymore about other people's perceptions.  You and I know who we are, and that's the only thing that matters at the end of the day. I love you Dean, and I shouldn't have to put other people's standards to that whenever I say it."

 

Dean listened, but halfway through Sam's explanation he let his eyes wander away.  It was bad enough they were having a dreaded 'chick flick moment', but worse still Sam was missing the point of Dean's previous words.  The love he felt for Sam wasn't merely brotherly or fraternal, it was romantic and so soul crushingly vivid, that it left a sharp taste in Dean's mouth and dull ache within his bones.  He's not certain what to say once Sam finished speaking; his knee jerk reaction is to denounce everything with an obnoxious comment but instead Dean just remained silent.  He swallowed and took a visible breath, locked gazes with Sam and just sat there.

 

Sam held his hands open, cautious disbelief ridding his expression.  "So, what? You're just going to sit there now and not participate in the conversation?"

 

Annoyance tinged Dean's features, and he couldn't help himself to save his life.  "I don't know what you want me to say, Sam. You want to reclaim the past, great. I'll buy into that and say screw public perception. That's fan-friggin'-tastic, we're agreed. Now can we please go back to **_not_** talking about this like I asked in the first place?"

 

Sam's gaze narrowed slightly in anger.  "Sure; for the moment."

 

They spent the next twenty minutes eating in silence, casting narrowed glances across the table at one another.  Once the debris was cleared from the table, Dean belched, retrieved the keys to Baby, and strode to the room door.  Sam knew there was half a chance Dean would either drive out of the parking lot in search of a near by bar, or bring in weapons from the trunk for cleaning.  Sam cursed softly at the sound of the Impala's engine revving seconds before Dean kicked it into reverse.

 

"Asshole." Sam groused, reaching for his laptop.

 

There was still research to be done. Yet after ten minutes of trying in vain to concentrate, Sam slammed the lid of his laptop shut and rose from the table. He dressed in a hurry and grabbed his cell phone, wallet, and room key. He searched for local bars in the area on his phone, and saw that there were three on this strip of road within reasonable walking distance.  The second bar on the list was where the Impala was parked.  Pressing his lips into a hard line, Sam entered the bar and gave his eyes a minute to adjust to the dimness. It had been brighter outside on the street from the neon, car, and street lights.  Dean was seated at the bar flirting with a female bartender; naturally; and Sam made straight for him.

 

_Make that, "fucking asshole"...._

 

Sam's jaw twitched, as he pushed between the two barstools, and stared hard at his brother's profile.  "I wasn't finished talking-"

 

Dean sighed begrudgingly, and put his shot of whiskey back down on the bar before turning his gaze to Sam's.  "Well I was done listening, not much else t'do here Sam."

 

"Fine." Sam hissed, pushing himself up on the barstool to Dean's left.  "After all, we only talk about what **_you_** want us too." The female bartender took one look at Sam and raised her palms, obviously removing herself from the conversation.  She was about to walk away, when Sam stopped her and politely ordered a beer.  He paid her for the bottle, then focused all of his attention back onto his brother.  "Why are you doing this, Dean?"

 

Dean's gaze sparked with annoyance and deeper still, fear.  "I don't know what your problem is, Sammy. I'm here 'cause I'm thirsty."

 

"No, you're here hiding instead of facing me; drinking to forget, and hoping to lose yourself in anonymous sex."

 

Dean huffed.  "Don't be so melodramatic." He took a quick swig of his liquor and winked at the bartender when she abruptly caught his eye. He turned his smile to Sam, the gesture hollow and not reaching his eyes.  "You were always such a ' _sensitive'_ kid."

 

Sam's lips pursed and his nostrils flared with anger.  He knew he shouldn't respond, but it was a knee jerk reaction by now, as Dean knew just what buttons to push to obliterate Sam's focus.  "We can't all be detached assholes, Dean."

 

Dean exhaled, and set down the glass upon the bar top. He puckered his lips slightly and shrugged.  "Aw, c'mon Sammy, don't look at me like that. Let's have a few drinks, watch some shitty sports on TV and-"

 

Sam's teeth clenched together.  "I don't want to sit here and watch bar television. What I want is to talk to my pig headed older brother about what's been happening between us.  But apparently, he's too insecure to acknowledge a simple declaration of lo-"

 

Dean's hand smacked down over Sam's mouth, the other seizing the nape of his younger sibling's neck.  Eyes narrowed and burning with warning, Dean wet his lips with a quick flip of his tongue before speaking, his tone husky and laced with barely contained fury.  "Not. In. _Public._ Sam."

 

Sam knocked Dean's hand off of his mouth, leaning back out of his reach.  Dean held up his palms in surrender, sarcasm dipping into anger as his tone ratcheted up an octave.  "Hey, you're the one getting all 'chick flick moment' on me."  Dean saw Sam's fists clench and he knew his brother was about to strike. He braced himself for the movement and impact that would fall against his own deflecting arm.

 

Instead of physically lashing out, Sam glanced down for a few seconds shifting on the stool transforming his fury into disappointment.  He shook his head and lowered the volume of his voice.  "I told you how I feel about you and you just ran. You know we need to discuss this, Dean. Ignoring it will never solve anything."

 

Dean's upper lip rose into a partial snarl.  Sam raised his head, expression raw rather than angry, shy, and no longer determined as it had been seconds prior.  Dean noted this shift and continued, "I'm not running, okay? Because there's nothing to run _from_. I'm drinking, which is something you're welcome to do if you want to stay; but otherwise go back to the room and I'll be back when I feel like it. That all right with you Sammy? Or do we have to have another _heart to heart_?"

 

Pain flashed behind Sam's hazel gaze.  "You know what Dean; I think that's a hell of an idea." He slid the beer he had ordered directly in front of his brother.  "Here, have one on me.  Go back to talking to the bartender and don't worry, I won't wait up."  Sam rose from the bar stool and moved to leave.

 

"Hey!" Dean caught his arm.  "C'mon Sammy, you don't need to be such a bitch."

 

"I know, Dean. Just as long as I keep my mouth shut and pretend none of this ever happened."  Sam yanked his arm out of Dean's grasp and stalked to the bar exit.

 

A fellow a few stools down, looked at Dean.  "Ha. Don't you hate it when the wife gets all bitchy about nothin'?"

 

Dean's brow furrowed and he glared at the man.  "Hey why don't you shut the hell up and mind your own damn business?"  Glancing at the shot of whiskey, he grabbed it and downed the remaining liquid only tasting the burn, before hurrying off after Sam.  Cursing, he called out to his brother struggling to catch up to him. The guy had legs eight feet long and Dean was annoyed as it was. 

 

"Sammy!" Dean huffed, "Sam!

 

Ignoring him, Sam exited the bar angrily pushing the door back on it's hinges as far as it would go. The hydraulic arm had been set not to allow it to hit the building, but the give it did provide vented Sam's fury a little.  Growling in his throat, he took several strides into the parking lot before he rounded on Dean.  "I thought you were, _'thirsty'_. What happened? The bartender shot you down for a _ride_ home?"

 

"Don't be a little bitch, Sa-” The next sensation Dean was acutely aware of was the taste of blood on his tongue.  He staggered back from the force of the blow to his face, and raised a hand to his jaw, gaping at Sam in disbelief.

 

"Call me a bitch one more time and I'll knock out all of your molars."

 

"Jesus, Sammy-"

 

"No!" Sam shouted, pointing a finger at Dean's face as if he was a misbehaving dog that needed punishing.  "I'm sick of it! When you change your mind and want to talk, you know where I'll be."  He backed away several steps before turning away from his brother and walking in the direction of the motel.  His mouth felt dry and he was angry.  Tears stung at his gaze annoying him, and he clenched his jaw willing them away.  Why was Dean so fucking childish about discussing his feelings? Silence had never done them any favors in their childhood, let alone their current state.  Sam clenched his right fist and struck it hard against his thigh, willing his heart to stop racing and his throat to stop clenching around an unexpressed howl or sob. He wasn't certain which would burst from his lips, so he swallowed them both.

 

Dean watched Sam stride off and spent a few seconds looking from his retreating form, to the bar, and back again.  He couldn't believe he was actually vacillating about his decision. Sam had thrown down a gauntlet challenge and his ego demanded that he turn tail and drink and flirt until he was fucking the bartender in the alley, and trying to decide if he should risk the drive, or just crawl into Baby's backseat and sleep it off until he could drive back to the motel and Sam.  But he felt conflicted, his chest tight, and his anger raging; the overlapping of emotions causing him to second guess himself to an immobile status.

 

"Aw, hell." Dean groused, dismissing Sam with a wave of his hand. He headed back into the bar to order another drink. Let Sam stew in his princess, feels juices and cry himself to sleep over his perceived pain.  He was being a real girl, and Dean just didn't have the energy to fight about it right now.  Why was it whenever Dean talked from the heart, his brother insisted on psychoanalyzing every single nuance until the corpse was picked apart and nothing remained but ashes in Dean's mouth? Why was it so difficult for Sam to just accept something at face value and move on? He was a smart guy, yet tenacious as fuck; and Dean couldn't win for trying in Sam's eyes.

 

"I'm not running." He stated in order to convince himself of the statement. Yet deep down Dean knew Sam was right.  He was always right if Dean allowed him to be. He had learned in childhood how to shout Sam down and twist and misdirect sensible sounding truths, until Sam was the one walking away scratching his head and confused.  However, this time it was Dean who was uncertain and insecure, and he didn't like it: Didn't like it one bit.


	2. Circling the Before: Closing In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean have issues that need to be worked out following their confrontation at a bar. Dean returns to the motel room and Sam to do just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is where all the sex happens.
> 
> Thanks again to my beautiful better half for all the input and hand holding. I love ya! (edited and re-posted 8/29/16)
> 
> Kudos, comments, requests, questions, criticisms all encouraged. Thank you for reading!

_"It's all right, Sweetheart. It happens once and awhile."_   The bartender's words were swirling in a loop within Dean's mind.  It might happen to other men, but it did **_not_** just happen to Dean "Love 'em  & Leave 'em Beggin' For More" Winchester!  Dean stared down at his lap, unbelieving that his erection had evaporated minutes’ prior.  It was as if his hard on had retreated to the safety of his pelvis, and refused to come out until the embarrassment had passed.  Dean wasn't certain he'd ever let himself live this down, let alone a woman who's name he had never really known.  She had gone with him to the Impala expecting sex, and all she got for her troubles were a few gropes and kisses before his dick went on hiatus.  It didn't even have the common decency to wait until they had undressed enough to do any fraction of the deed.

 

Dean cursed sharply and banged his hands against the steering wheel in frustration.  He scrubbed his right palm down his nose and mouth to the chin, feeling deeply in his bones that somehow Sam was to blame.  It was the argument they had in the bar parking lot not an hour prior.  Stupid Sam and his sanctimonious, over sensitive, judgmental bullshit.  Why did it always have to be so tedious and exhausting with emotional issues? Why couldn't Sam just take things at face value and let them go? Why was he hard wired to question every damn thing Dean said or did, until Dean wanted to throttle him? Choke him out just long enough for Sam to lose consciousness, so that Dean could get some peace and quiet now and again?

 

Dean growled, then stroked the steering wheel whispering an apology to it for his previous outburst.  It wasn't Baby's fault after all. Dean was miserable. He wasn't drunk, he didn't get laid, and Sam was being a little bitch, and there was nothing Dean could do to rescue himself from the situation.  Grinding his teeth, Dean started the car electing to return to the hotel.  He didn't want to give Sam the satisfaction of having ruined his night, but there was no salvaging the remainder of it now. The humiliation of a lost erection was enough to catapult Dean into a dismal, sullen mope for the next twenty-four hours.

 

Fuck Sam and fuck the craptacular night Dean faced.

 

Sam had stopped in a supermarket on his walk back to the motel to purchase a couple of bottles of water for the road, the following day and some fruit.  He was in a bad mood but determined not to take it out on anyone other than his older brother.  Dean was capable of bringing Sam to the pinnacle of fury with just a single carefully worded phrase.  That was the downside of having been raised by his brother, and abruptly Sam realized where their largest problem lay.  While Sam was seeking to have a romantic and sexual relationship with Dean that trumped their bond of brothers and family, Dean was mired in the opposite.  For Dean their relationship was primarily brother/son with the added complication of sexual desire. Dean couldn't see beyond the confines of Sam as his kid brother and son, in order to make the leap to lovers and beyond.

 

The walk back to the motor lodge gave Sam enough time to examine the issue from multiple sides. His shoulders rounded in defeat, because even if he had discovered the root issue of their disagreement, it did not alter the fact that Dean was fucking some local woman instead of being with Sam.  The mental images of Dean having sex with a stranger unfurled Sam's disgust and anger.  He knew Dean's M.O.; had bore witness to it from the time Dean hit puberty to it's current unaltered state. Yes, he knew his brother's habits but this particular one he loathed, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not unless he could manage to entice Dean to actually talk to him and commit himself to their romantic relationship.  Sam had little hope of doing that tonight; let alone ever; and it devastated him. 

 

Back inside the room, Sam placed the grocery bags on the table and changed back into his night clothes.  His fist was a tiny bit sore from his thrown punch, but the action had been satisfying at the time.  If nothing else, it had shut Dean's pie hole for a few seconds so Sam could attempt yet again to get through to him.  Now that Sam was alone, his thoughts still swarmed with Dean as their center. Sam turned on the laptop, confident that once he committed himself to do the research the annoying cavalcade of thoughts of Dean would cease. A few minutes later he was surprised to hear a knock on the motel room door.

 

"Sammy!" Dean sounded tired but there was no slur to his words. "Sam! Open the door!"

 

Dean wasn't drunk and had not had enough time to engage in rushed sex with the bartender? This was promising.   Sam rose from the dinette chair and unlocked the door, stepping back to allow Dean to come in.  If Sam didn't know any better he'd judge Dean's mood to be repentant. Once he was inside, Sam closed and locked the door then turned his back to it folding his arms across his chest.

 

"You're back early."

 

Dean grunted, and was about to sit down upon the bed when an abrupt noise from Sam stopped him.

 

"What?"

 

"Take a shower before you touch the bed." He didn't want ode de skank to soil their bedding. Never mind that the bed spread had most likely never been washed since it was purchased in the 1970's.

 

"Seriously?" Dean demanded, without any sting to his tone.

 

"Yes."

 

Dean muttered under his breath petulantly, and walked into the bathroom leaving the door open. He sat on the toilet to take off his boots and socks before peeling off the remainder of his clothing. He turned on the shower and waited for the water to get hot, before he stepped into the tub.  Stupid Sam and his stupider rules. Dean was beginning to think that no matter what he did for the remainder of the night, Sam would find something to criticize him for.

 

Relaxing, Sam went back to the table and his research.  Ten minutes later he heard the water shut off in the bathroom, and ignored Dean until made his grand entrance back into the room. He had the towel wrapped around his waist and huffed as he flopped down upon the bed, arms extended over his head, feet hanging off the side of the mattress, with his toes brushing the carpet.  Sam raised his gaze from the computer screen and looked at Dean over the top of it.

 

"Thank you."

 

Dean rotated his head slowly and looked at his brother.  "You always get your way so..." his gaze turned back towards the ceiling as his head lowered once more.

 

Sam grunted in disagreement, and waited a few seconds before asking, "What happened?"

 

Dean's lips pursed as he considered the two answers he could give Sam. Tell the truth, or lie?  One saved his ego another hit and circumnavigated any further teasing. The other? Well there was something to be said for being open and honest with his brother. Ultimately, the truth was what Sam wanted from Dean and they both knew it.

 

"I couldn't get it up."

 

Sam blinked several times and canted his head to the right. Had he just heard what he _thought_ he had?  Sam's lips parted and a rush of air passed from them, as Dean pivoted his head once more to make eye contact.

 

"You...you _couldn't_...?"

 

Dean shrugged his right shoulder slightly. "No. And before you ask," Dean countered pausing for a few seconds. "no. It has never happened to me before."

 

Sam blinked a few more times. His lips pressed together and his head swiveled back to it's normal stance.

 

"Never?"

 

"Never." Dean stared at him, challenge clear in his gaze but Sam knew that questioning further would completely disintegrate their unspoken truce.

 

"I'm sorry that happened, Dean." His expression conveyed sympathy regarding his brother's situation, but there was also an amount sanctimonious smugness in his gaze. Dean shouldn't be sticking his cock where it didn't belong, thus proving Sam's point that Dean was avoiding the inevitable conversation.

 

Dean rolled his eyes and turned his face back to the ceiling.  "Just wait until it happens to you one day."  There was no malice in the projection, because Dean wouldn't wish this embarrassment on any man.

 

Sam shut down the laptop and closed it. He remained seated across the room from Dean, but his gaze never left his brother's prone form.  "I told you that I'm in love with you, and you left.  You ran out the door as fast as you could, and now you're lying there pretending I never said the words."  Sam caught his breath, realizing his chest was constricting a little inhibiting the flow of air into his lungs.  He was panicking because this moment was so vital, and he had little confidence that Dean would treat it as such. Sam didn't want to feel the hurt so deeply, but he couldn't prevent it.

 

"Dean, carrying this in silence will kill us.  I love you. I want everything you are and I want for you to feel the same about me. But if you insist on running away from me, or treating me like a child who's only worthy of your fraternal love, then we're not going to work.  I'm your hunting partner; I have your back no matter what happens between us. I want to be yours; fully and completely and I always have.  The question is, do you want the same for yourself?"

 

Dean closed his eyes shut tightly, as his features contorted in pain. The silence in the room was deafening and he could hear the sounds of highway traffic beyond the wall. Beyond that there was only the white noise of his thoughts, and the darkness deep inside of that. Dean inhaled sharply and his eyes popped open. On the exhale, Dean pushed himself up into a sitting position and looked at Sam.

 

"C'm 'ere."

 

Sam immediately rose from the chair, and crossed the distance to his brother. He dropped to his knees and placed his hands upon Dean's knees, thumbs rubbing the caps gently, fingers fanned up his thighs.  Sam's gaze was gentle, loving; and his lips were parted in hope as his breathing hitched in his chest.  He was before Dean completely present and willing, and so beautiful that it made Dean's chest ache at the sight of him.  Dean reached out with his hands and placed them against either side of Sam's jaw, his thumbs tracing up Sam's cheekbones, hovering more than actually touching. Dean pulled his own lips into his mouth and took a few breaths before releasing them, the flesh moistened and slightly plumped.

 

"I love you so much Sammy, I don't know what to do." Dean's expression and tone fell to a plea as he whispered, "What am I supposed to do?"

 

Sam smiled, and rose up to stand upon his knees, his hands slid up Dean's thighs to circle around his waist.  "I'll show you." Sam breathed the promise over Dean's lips. "I promise it'll be so damn easy."

 

Dean made a slight gasping sound of surprise as Sam's lips pressed to his own. His eyes closed as he tasted Sam on his tongue. Dean's hands dropped from Sam's face to rest one upon his chest, the other upon his side. Never before had Dean felt a kiss so tender, unhurried, and impassioned. He opened his lips to it a greedy sound leaving his throat, as their mouths sealed over one another.  He felt Sam's body flinch away in surprise at the touch to his side, but even before he could think Sam was pushing forward against Dean's palms, steady and unyielding.

 

Dean felt tears prick his gaze and his tongue moved against Sam's, twisting and entwining inside their first kiss.  Dean never wanted to stop. He took the hand upon Sam's chest and raised it to cradle his throat, the flesh elongated and warm beneath Dean's palm. His thumb pushed lightly at the underside of Sam's chin, silently asking to hold the angle of Sam's head as they kissed.  Sam's arms encircled Dean's waist, hot palms pressed to Dean's shivering flesh as the kiss consumed them both, evolving into passionate demand, as Sam leaned forward and Dean parted his legs to keep their chests pressed together.

 

Sam was right; it was easy. All Dean had to do was kiss him and that was no hardship. His body opened seemingly of it's own accord, hips canting upward and pressing against Sam's pelvis in gluttonous need. Sam's arms around him were all encompassing in their security, and Dean moaned, the sound originating within his chest as it pressed outward into Sam's mouth. Dean's cock roared to life, causing him to sigh and fist his hand in the back of Sam's shirt.  He felt a tear escape down his cheek, as Sam devoured him within the kiss and held their bodies together in a ceaseless cycle of shared breath and heat.

 

Sam immediately felt Dean's arousal, his own answering in kind.  He wanted to divest them both of the clothing and towel barriers, but he could not bring himself to end the kiss. Not yet; not after it was such a hard fought and won surrender from his older brother.  There would be no more running tonight, and if Dean set one foot towards the door then next morning, Sam was going to bodily drag him back to bed and fuck him into submission.  Dean was right when he said that Sam always got what he wanted; he was tenacious and driven, and therefore Dean's hedonistic tendencies didn't stand a chance resisting him.  Sam wanted Dean and had declared his intent and love openly. The only thing left for Dean was to submit, and oh; the feel of Dean's hips lifting and legs spreading, televised that that Sam would meet little resistance.

 

The kiss severed, and Sam moaned his brother's name as Dean's mouth latched onto his throat. He felt Dean tremble for a few seconds, but he stopped once Sam's hands began moving upon his flesh again. "S'okay." Sam exhaled the words in a whisper. "I've got you."  Dean's mouth found his, and Sam leaned forward, bending Dean back to the mattress. Their torso's and cocks meshed together, and both men moaned at the heat of it.

 

"Sammy." Dean moaned feeling light headed enough to wonder if he were going to pass out. "Naked. We need - **naked**."

 

Sam smirked at the poor sentence construction, but he dipped his head to nip at the juncture of the right side of Dean's throat and shoulder. "Lay back and I'll give you everything you want." His teeth applied more pressure at the next bite, and he felt Dean tremble and hiss in pleasure at the pain.  Dean immediately obeyed the instant Sam opened his arms to let him go.  Dean pushed himself up the mattress with his heals, until his head reached the opposite end. The towel had fallen off of him from the maneuvering, and he lifted his head to watch Sam.

 

Sam walked into the bathroom for a second and retrieved the bottle of personal lubrication from his shaving kit, and tossed it onto the bed along side of Dean. Dean's legs fell open in anticipation and his hips jutted up in need. Sam was momentarily mesmerized by the jostling of Dean's full and dripping cock. He cleared his stupor with a shake of his head, and yanked his tee shirt off exposing his muscular and toned torso. Dean wet his lips at the sight, eyes hungry and tears dried.  Sam hooked his thumbs in the waist band of his lounge pants and shimmed out of them quickly, his own rock hard cock bobbing free against his thighs. He stepped out of the pooled clothing at his feet, and placed a knee on the bed as he leaned down, maneuvering his form to lay upon Dean's.

 

Dean closed his thighs around Sam's sides, their mouths instantly sealing in another slow, impassioned kiss. Dean's hands scrambled for purchase upon Sam's back, massaging the muscles beneath his rough palms. He wanted to touch Sam everywhere at the same time, and was nearly frustrated with inability. Sam placed a large hand on the side of Dean's skull and raked his pelvis up Dean's, grounding the other man beneath him. Dean relaxed, his hands stilling upon Sam's sides, fingers splayed up the rib cage and reaching towards the spine.  Sam's hips bucked and Dean tore his mouth free of Sam's moaning loudly into the room.

 

" _Fuck_!" Dean hissed, cock aching as intensely as his chest.  "Sammy..."

 

"I know." Sam answered, voice graveled by lust as he stared down into his brother's eyes. "It's okay." He ran a thumb over Dean's cheekbone, hand still at the side of his face. "It's gonna be okay."

 

"No." Dean choked on the word as emotion abruptly surged and tangled in throat. Sam's expression softened, and Dean's fell to desperation.  "I need everything and I can't take getting there."

 

Sam broke his brother's phrase down within his mind, instantly understanding what Dean was attempting to convey. He wanted the life Sam was asking for; he wanted to commit to their love body and soul. Yet there was an intense fear that they would be sabotaged and destroyed before they could actualize their physical and spiritual desires. He was desperate, impatient, and so overwhelmed by his feelings, that he felt he would implode and destroy it before he had even tasted a breath.  Both of Sam's hands cradled Dean's head.

 

"Look at me." Sam ordered tender but firmly. When Dean's eyes locked upon his own, Sam rubbed his fingertips gently against Dean's scalp until he felt his brother's tension relax its death grip upon him.  "Dean, we're not tempting fate, we're creating a future for the two of us. One we both deserve. So listen to me when I promise you, we're getting there _right_ _now_."  Sam nodded and Dean mirrored the acceptance, eliciting a smile from his younger brother.  "Just trust me. I've got your back on this, I swear."

 

Dean gulped, swallowing as one of his hands grabbed Sam's left wrist, his thumb pressing into the palm.  "Right. You're showing me."

 

"I am." Sam vowed, stroking Dean's face gently. "You okay?" Dean nodded, unable to trust his voice to manifest and he leaned up to place his lips upon Sam's once more.  "Good." Sam praised before losing himself in another kiss.  Dean's body relaxed as Sam began kissing and caressing it purposefully. Dean's hands were more patient in their touches and the effects fed Sam's desire well.  Sam slid a hand between them, and took both of their cocks in his palm.

 

Dean moaned at the touch, and thrust up against Sam, breaking their kiss and attaching his mouth to his little brother's jugular. Sam's skin tasted like sunshine, the wind, pie, spices and safety. His scent was completely intoxicating and Dean wanted to devour every inch of him; kiss every curve and rise; first with his olfactory senses and then with his mouth.  No one had ever tasted, smelled or felt so good to Dean.

 

"Jesus, Sammy." Dean breathed, nuzzling up behind Sam's ear. "I need you so much." One of Dean's hands traversed down over the expanse of Sam's flesh to the globes of his ass. "C'n I be in you?"

 

Sam responded by kissing Dean deeply and when they parted his expression conveyed his immense approval.  "You won't need to finger me any. I've been playing with a toy for the past few days now."

 

Dean couldn't help but chuckle. "Sammy, you dirty, slutty, freaky, man you."

 

"Are you really going to complain?" Sam countered, dropping his own cock in favor of stroking Dean's.

 

Dean moaned, arched upward, and tightened his legs around Sam.  "You play dirty too. I'm gonna have to watch you aren't I?" It was a statement, a vow, and not a question.  Sam laughed, and they kissed, bodies shifting on the bed until they rolled onto their sides and Sam raised up onto his knees.

 

"Can we do it like this? With you behind me?"

 

"Any way you want it Baby Boy." Dean assured, reaching for the bottle of lube and rising to his knees as well. "So how big is this _'toy'_ of yours?"

 

Sam grinned seductively, and glanced down at Dean's cock before answering, "Not as big as you. That was kind of the point though; when you fucked me for the first time I wanted to be able to feel it the next day."

 

Dean groaned, and dropped his head back to the ceiling, as he applied lube to his cock. "Damn it Sammy, gotta love your dirty mouth."

 

"You can fuck it later." Sam added fuel to the already blazing fire between them, and didn't care. He saw Dean's cock twitch at the prospect and walked towards him on his knees. He slowly repositioned himself with his back to Dean.

 

Dean dusted Sam's shoulders with kisses as he pressed his middle finger to the awaiting hole. Easily he spread lubrication upon it, Sam tensed at first, at the chill on his sensitive flesh, but within seconds he was relaxed. Dean rubbed his face against the nape of Sam's neck, relishing the scent of curtain of hair that slid upon his face.  Sam's hole easily caught the tip of Dean's finger as he rubbed over it. The entrance was not completely shut, and it gave Dean the most perverse thrill upon the discovery.

 

"Jesus! When did you have time to fuck yourself Baby Boy?"

 

"Doesn't matter." Sam assured, arching back against Dean's chest like a cat. "I don't need it anymore now that I have you."

 

Dean was more than convinced he was going to die an early death if Sam continued making such lusty comments. He circled his right arm around Sam's waist, and used his left hand too coral his cock, and guide it to Sam's hole.

 

"You're right about that. Gonna fuck you all the time Baby Boy. All the goddamned time..."

 

Sam rested his head back upon Dean's shoulder at the initial intrusion of the cock head inside his hole. He moaned loudly, as Dean continued pressing inward at a steadily controlled pace. He moaned his brother's name and reached back, beside and behind him, to grip Dean's thighs.

 

"All the way in, Dean." Sam pleaded, as he felt full for the first time in his life.  "D-don't stop until I'm choking on you from the inside out."

 

"Quit talkin' or I blow my load before I even get halfway." Dean growled, biting at Sam's exposed throat.

 

"Not my problem." Sam teased, moving with his brother's body in unison. He felt Dean shove forward and cried out, fingers tensing upon Dean's flesh.  "More!" he gasped in demand. He stopped breathing when Dean's arms dropped to his hips, and Sam was yanked hard down upon Dean's cock.

 

Dean cursed and panted, as his balls lay flush against Sam's. He had never felt anything tighter around his cock than Sam's welcoming, and constricting body. His vision flashed white and he closed his eyes momentarily, pressing his forehead to Sam's shoulder.  He felt like sobbing but with joy. He wanted to scream, but he was unable. All he could do was tremble uncontrollably, as he waited for Sam to relax just enough so that he could begin thrusting in and out of his little brother.  Every sexual encounter before this was rendered null and void. All that came before was meaningless, unsatisfying farce, that he couldn't remember now that he was buried in Sam.

 

Sam gasped and arched away, as Dean began to move behind him. He matched the pistoning of his hips to counter Dean’s. Before long, Dean was pounding into him so hard that Sam had to brace himself on the mattress with both arms. The change in their position seemed bring out a swell of aggression in Dean, and he redoubled his efforts until all they could do was huff breaths at one another and hiss with need. Incapable of articulation, Dean yanked Sam up against his chest, biting into the back of a shoulder as he ejaculated deeply inside Sam.

 

The brother's sat back, Dean's thighs v-ing open so that Sam was nestled between them, kissing until Sam's body ceased trembling in the aftermath.  Dean pressed his forehead against the nape of Sam's neck, and Sam exhaled a sated laugh.

 

"Looks like little Dean is over it."

 

Dean rubbed his face against the perspiration coating the flesh of Sam's shoulder blades, his grin wide in amusement. "Little Dean just had the best piece of ass in the world so, yeah; he's never going soft again."

 

Sam stroked a hand down Dean's thigh. "Promise?"

 

"Hell yes." Dean vowed breathlessly.  "Just you and only you, Sammy. Just you."

 

Sam closed his eyes and groaned in disappointment, as Dean's cock deflated enough that it began to slide out of him.  "Little Sammy's feeling neglected."

 

Dean disengaged from Sam and lay down upon the mattress. "Bring him over here, and I'll give him a hug." When Sam turned to crawl over to him, Dean's eyes narrowed with desire. Sam was proportionate, and for a second Dean wasn't certain he could breathe as Sam was just that perfect.

 

Sam lay down half beside and half on Dean.  "In a minute. First I have to prep you."

 

Dean laughed, flushing a little in embarrassment. "Yeah," Dean looked away. "Nothing sounds sexier than that Sam."

 

Sam laughed too, and turned Dean's face by the chin to make eye contact. "You don't use toys and you haven't had anal in how long?"

 

Dean rolled his eyes feeling less scrutinized and shamed now; this would be his first time and Sam would never tease him for being an ass virgin.  "Fine." He sighed and touched Sam's face. "But don't go over two fingers. I'd rather feel you opening me on your dick."

 

The only thing Sam had in way of response to that, was to reach for the lube bottle as he kissed Dean enthusiastically. Sam lost track of time as he lay upon and beside Dean kissing him, biting at his nipples, caressing his throat, and fingering him lightly. He wasn't in a hurry to push into the tight channel that awaited him, as he rather enjoyed the little gasps his brother made, the arching of Dean's body, and the taste of him in his mouth. He scissored his fingers and thrust them in and out lazily of Dean's heat.  He couldn't help smiling when Dean moaned low from his chest, begging Sam to give him more. Sam obliged by adding another finger.

 

Dean cried out at the exquisite torture Sam was insistent on plaguing him with. His legs were spread wide, his gaze swirling with lust, and his breath coming in even, deep, gasps. He couldn't take his eyes off of Sam's face, and reached up with a hand to touch his cheek.

 

"So beautiful."

 

Sam flushed pink at Dean's pronouncement, and brushed his lips lightly against his older brother's.  "Trying to make me fall in love harder? I'm already to the bone, Dean."

 

"You can go deeper." Dean whispered, craning his head up to catch one more kiss. "Now fuck me before I die from this."  Dean keened as Sam's fingers danced torturously across his prostate.  His balls seized up, and he nearly climaxed at the gentle press of Sam's fingertips.  "Sammy... _Please_?"

 

Sam withdrew his fingers and wiped the excess lube on his cock, before he rose up into position over Dean.  Dean bent and constricted his legs up to cradle Sam's sides between them. Sam took a moment to apply a little more lubrication to his cock, before lining it up and pressing the tip past Dean's opening.  Sam groaned along with Dean and closed his eyes. Entering Dean was Sam's new heaven, and he vowed never to abandon it again. Sam's mouth fell open as he ground out his moan, and Dean leaned up to kiss him, as Sam continued to push inside.

 

"Dean..." Sam moaned into his brother's mouth before breaking their kiss. "You're so tight, I'm seeing stars."

 

"Keep going." Dean begged, quickly stroking Sam's hair back from his face. "If you're gonna pass out at least be fully up me."

 

Sam would have chuckled at this, but he was too intent on seating himself completely within Dean. Excruciatingly slow seconds later, his balls were flush against Dean's hole and Sam felt like the world collapsed around them. All he could feel was Dean holding him in a vice grip, kissing him and begging for Sam to fuck him.  Sam obliged by thrusting slow and deep, angling to hit Dean's prostate with the majority of his movements.  The steady tempo he kept provided Dean with the greatest amount of pleasure possible, and soon Sam felt sweat slide down his spine and dot his forehead.  He couldn't believe that they were both finally here, with one another, connected at the soul; where they belonged fused for eternity.

 

Both brother's didn't care for society's taboos or rules any longer. All that mattered was that they faced the world together. Sam couldn't help but smile as Dean let out a pleasured cry, and snapped his hips up against Sam's, eyes going wide in surprise.

 

"Sammy-"

 

"Shh." Sam whispered, eliciting the exact same response out of Dean, minus saying his name. He repeated the movement once more stealing Dean's ability to speak altogether. "Just lie there and take me. I've got you."

 

Dean's eyes fluttered closed, as his head fell back within Sam's hands upon the mattress. He panted for air, feeling like he was breathless even though he was breathing deeply. He arched every time Sam thrust and twisted his hips finding that perfect place within Dean that longed for him to complete. His body was climaxing, the orgasm rolling through him like an avalanche building speed down the mountainside. He felt every cell within his body open, exploding outward and forming back together with a new component nestled within it's core: Sam. Sam was forever a part of him now, and Dean's cock lazily spurted ejaculate between their bodies.

 

The tightening of Dean's muscles around his cock, drew a breath from Sam's lungs. He could barely move with how firmly Dean bore down locking him into place. He felt a shiver roll down his spine and leaned down to capture Dean's open mouth in a kiss. They shared oxygen for a few seconds, before Sam felt Dean completely go lax beneath him. Able to move once more, Sam continued his thrusts, dropping his head to press a cheek to Dean's, huffing air against his brother's throat. His own orgasm took shape and he shivered once more as his thrusts speed up.

 

"Dean..." He elongated his sibling's name. "I'm gonna, I-" Sam felt his body explode in a burst of light and emotion, sensation and dark; everything that he was fell back to earth reforming into his body.  He embraced Dean tightly and they both panted and writhed, slowly coming down from their physiological high. Sam knew it was more then that; now they were truly lovers and the joy that surged through him he could feel pulsing within Dean as well.

 

Sam opened his eyes and smiled at Dean, his brother's own expression holding a slightly goofy grin that was quintessentially Dean. Sam rubbed the palms of his hands back over Dean's skull, and slowly extricated himself to lie beside his brother.  Dean rolled onto his own side and the brother's cuddled together.

 

"Wow."

 

Dean exhaled a laugh and rubbed the tip of his nose against Sam's. "Wow, is an understatement." He placed a kiss upon Sam's forehead before pushing his own forehead to Sam's.  "I love you, Sammy."

 

"And I love you, Dean." Sam closed his eyes.  "Don't forget you're mine now."

 

"Won't." Dean managed, nuzzling his face up against Sam's throat. "Promise."

 

Finally, their circling was over.


End file.
